From Acorns to Oaks
by destiny's sweet melody
Summary: Modern AU. The wedding between Arya Stark and Gendry Waters-Baratheon was supposed to be a simple affair. Of course, with their families, nothing could ever be simple.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Game of Thrones_ or anything recognizable found herein.

 **A/N:** I'm so thrilled to be writing for **AryaxGendry Week 2018!** I was a little unsure since I tend to mix book and show canon when it comes to characterizations, and then I realized a modern AU would mean they'd have entirely different experiences, as well as access to _therapy_ , so I think I could be forgiven lol.

 **Warnings:** Mixes book and show canon (mostly Gendry's living half-siblings and Barra because FU Lannisters, Weasel, and Lady Smallwood), mild language, Nobody's Dead because reasons, features Robb/Talisa, SanSan, Jon/Ygritte, (implied) Rickon/Shireen, and Bran/Meera.

 **Summary:** Modern AU. The wedding between Arya Stark and Gendry Waters-Baratheon was supposed to be a simple affair. Of course, with their families, nothing could ever be simple.

* * *

 **From Acorns to Oaks**

 **Day One: Eye Contact**

Unsurprisingly, Sansa was the first one to find out about the engagement. Arya wasn't even sure _how_ she'd done it!

They'd been careful to keep it secret, Arya had even slipped her ring off before they arrived for the monthly extended family dinner. She didn't want to say she wanted it to be a _surprise_ , because, really, it wasn't that big of a deal. She practically lived with Gendry already, they'd been together since she was sixteen and friends since she was nine, and it wasn't like anybody thought she was waiting for her wedding night to give it up to him. Except maybe Father, and she was willing to allow him his fantasies of pure white wedding dresses that actually meant something, if only because she'd heard enough 'stay away from my precious baby girl' tirades from Jon.

Except, maybe it _was_ a big deal.

She'd never been the kid that dreamt about weddings and children and perfect picket-fenced houses. Gendry was, though. Because his home life growing up had been shit without a father, and it had only gotten worse when he found out who his father was. He was the type of person that saw his less than desirable parents and thought to himself 'I'm going to do better.' Arya knew she was signing up for a small, cottage style house with two-point-five kids and a pack of dogs - okay, that last one was all her - when she accepted the silver ring he had crafted himself.

It was okay, because she _kind of_ wanted it too.

Ever since she met Weasel during her community service in high school, she'd discovered a heretofore hidden maternal instinct in herself. She had become fiercely protective of the little toddler, with her stringy blonde hair and threadbare coats, going much farther than what was required of her by the community service company. She'd bought birthday presents and school supplies, made sure her parents had enough for groceries, kept tabs on her as she made her way through primary school, and still visited her at least twice a month.

And seeing Gendry cradling Barra, the youngest of Robert Baratheon's illegitimate children, was practically an aphrodisiac.

So, even though she had never seen herself getting married at twenty-two to the only boyfriend she'd ever had, she didn't doubt her decision in the least. She was still going to be a kick-ass lawyer at Stark Holdings, anyway. Marriage and babies weren't going to stop her.

Everything seemed to be going right in her life, for once, and that was why she had put _some_ effort into making it a special event. Then stupid Sansa had ruined it.

At some point between chatting about the weather over fried potatoes and Catelyn chiding Rickon for his latest fight in school, Sansa had inhaled sharply, bringing all attention to herself and shouted, "You're getting married!"

"Seven hells!" Arya retorted, and ignored her mother's chiding for the strong language, "How do _you_ know?"

She hadn't realized what she said until the cutlery fell out of her mother's grip. Tears welled in Catelyn's eyes, a smile lighting up her face, "You're getting married?"

Arya sighed petulantly but dug out her engagement ring from her pocket and placed it on her finger. Wiggling her fingers, she gave a lackluster, "Ta-da."

Catelyn and Sansa shrieked in delight, jumping out of their seats to hug her. Arya was glad that Talisa was level-headed enough to smile and gently place a hand on her shoulder, whispering her well-wishes.

"Does this mean Gendry is going to be our brother?" Rickon asked curiously.

"I thought I already was your brother," Gendry joked.

Rickon still seemed worried he had insulted him, eyes wide as he hurried to assure him, "Well, sure, but I mean legally!"

Robb snorted, and Talisa was quick to slap his shoulder before he could tease the youngest Stark. He cleared his throat, "Congratulations to the happy couple! I sure hope you know what you're doing by marrying our little she-wolf, Gendry."

Talisa rolled her eyes, but it was Ned that put an end to the teasing, "Enough! Anybody should be delighted to marry Arya," she preened at her father's praise. "And it'll be our honor to officially welcome you to the family, son."

Gendry nodded shortly, and Arya knew that he was probably doing his best to not break down. Her father was one of the few men that he respected as good and just. Even his old mentor, Tobho Mott, had sold him out when the Lannisters had started hunting down the illegitimate Baratheons for who knows what plan. It meant a lot to him that Ned approved of him, thought highly of him, would be willing to call him 'son.' Even though he wasn't one for all that toxic 'real men don't cry' bull, growing up in the worst parts of the worst city in Westeros had made shielding his most vulnerable moments second nature.

"How did you know?" Arya narrowed her eyes at Sansa to get the attention off of Gendry.

Sansa smirked proudly, "You were doing that held eye contact thing where you're trying to silently come up with a game plan like Robb and Tali did when they eloped and didn't want mom to murder them. Also, you kept rubbing your ring finger like you were missing something. And you've never worn rings before."

That was. . . scarily perceptive. "You sure you don't want to be a detective instead of an actress?"

The redhead rolled her eyes. Arya had poked fun of her career choice plenty of times over the years. Perfect, preppy, eyes on the prize Sansa Stark had dropped out of college to pursue a full-time acting career on the behest of their creepy 'uncle' Petyr. All that led to was a brief stint of indie films under the pseudonym Alayne Stone that ended when it was revealed that he planned on having her enter the porn industry.

Then Robb, Jon, and Theon had beaten the shit out of their 'dear uncle', but Sansa decided to continue with acting. Accepting bit parts on YouTube channels and appearing in the Wintertown theatre while volunteering at the local wildlife shelter. She was, viewed from the outside, the family disappointment, even though none of them were disappointed in her for following her dreams.

Meanwhile, Arya, the rebellious wild child that had run away from home at thirteen and joined an elite fencing school just to prove she could, was on her path to becoming a respectable lawyer. As well as a wife and, eventually, mother.

Life was all kinds of topsy-turvy.

"I always thought you'd be the one getting married first. Between the two of us, I mean," the brunette admitted. "And I'd be the one having random weekend sex with tall, dark, and dangerous strangers."

"Sandor is _not_ a stranger," Sansa snapped. "And he's not dangerous. He's a puppy!"

"I'm telling him you said that."

"He already knows I call him that," she informed her little sister with waggling eye brows and a little tongue flick. Apparently, forgetting that she was seated beside their mother.

Catelyn slapped her eldest daughter's shoulder, "Not at the dinner table!"

"Not while I'm still breathing," Ned insisted, reaching for his wine goblet and taking a hearty gulp. "At least Robert is sure to be happy."

Arya blinked, her husband-to-be suddenly became as still as a statue. _Oh no._ They had forgotten about Gendry's extended family. He was amicable enough with his half-siblings, the ones still living, that had been recognized by Robert Baratheon while he lay in what he believed to be his death bed. Then he'd miraculously recovered and 'tried' to connect with his children. By sending hush money and inviting them to the family estate in Storm's End during the holidays.

And making bawdy jokes at Gendry when he'd discovered his son was dating a Stark girl.

Gendry had almost punched his father the last time they saw each other, when he'd asked if Gendry had shown Arya what stags could do to wolves yet. The old drunk had only laughed and acted as if blind fury was the natural state of a healthy father-son relationship. Ask Robert, and Gendry was his pride and joy.

Gendry still wanted to punch his father.

And then there were the Lannister bastards, who were still, technically, legally, Baratheons. Since Robert was still, technically, legally, married to Cersei. Arya thought it might be just because he was too lazy to go through with the divorce proceedings, or maybe just to spite his adulterous wife who abhorred every moment they were together. It was probably because Baratheon Industries relied on Lannister Gold Corp to stay afloat in the economy, though.

Either way, the small, intimate ceremony they had both imagined had suddenly been blown out of the water. There was no way they could get away with eloping - Robb had stolen that option, the jerk - and there was no way they could get away with simply _not_ inviting Gendry's large, and _unconventional_ family. Catelyn and Sansa, with their proper lady sensibilities, would never allow it.

Oh well, at least Winterfell was big.

* * *

 **A/N:** This turned out more family oriented than Gendrya. But, I love the idea of Gendry "becoming a Stark" and I couldn't resist! And, before you say it's OOC of Cat or Sansa to just accept Gendry, please remember they've had _years_ to accept it. And there will be more details of what's been going on in this universe in the upcoming chapters.

I had Robert remain married to Cersei and still "raising" the kids simply because I want the dysfunctional family drama lol. But, in a world where he can't just kill his kids in a fury, I think Tywin might have been able to blackmail him into staying, since the Lannisters rely on the Baratheon name just as much as they rely on their gold.

Please review and let me know what you liked, didn't like, and what could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I'm probably going to be late on most of these because I have two other ongoing fics and I am going to fry my brain, but I _really_ wanted to write for my fave GoT couple! I'll try my best, though.

 **Thanks to everyone** that added this fic to your alerts! And everyone reading! :)

* * *

 **From Acorns to Oaks**

 **Day Two: Caught Red-Handed**

Arya wanted a winter wedding. After living half his life in the hellish heat of King's Landing, Gendry was happy enough to be wed whenever he wouldn't be sweating like a pig. The problem was Arya wanted to be married _that same winter_. As in, three months after they announced their engagement to her family at large.

Sansa and Catelyn were properly horrified.

There wasn't enough time to plan a wedding in three months, they insisted. Most weddings, especially one as posh as a Stark-Baratheon wedding was going to be expected to be, took a year or more to plan. It was going to be on _the news_ , Arya!

"It's just a party," the bride to be shrugged. "Can't we just put some chairs in the yard?"

Catelyn looked like she might faint.

 _Fine,_ Arya huffed internally. She'd go along with all her mother's ladylike nonsense - 'you're descended from Kings, Arya, Stark Kings!' - and her sister's frou-frou daydreams. Why couldn't Sansa save her table arrangements with _pears_ in the flowers for her own wedding? She wasn't sure. But, at least agreeing to share her responsibilities meant that it might actually be possible to have the wedding when she wanted.

The line, however, had to be drawn when they started controlling _her_.

"Why can't I eat pizza?" the brunette glared at her tall, spindly sister, the greasy slice still in her hand, hovering a few inches away from her mouth.

"You could stand to lose a few pounds," Sansa sniffed delicately.

Arya glared harder, "I'm fighting fit!"

Even if the last fencing championship she participated in - and won, _thank you_ \- was when she was nineteen, she still practiced and kept in shape. She was by no means overweight.

"Yes, and you have an hourglass figure that you can't _see_ because of your. . . _muscles._ "

You'd think musculature was a crime by the redhead's tone! Arya rolled her eyes and determinedly took a bite of the extra cheese, double pepperoni pizza slice. Sansa seethed at her.

"What does that matter?" she spoke with her mouth full for good measure. "Gendry likes me well enough with my _muscles._ "

"But the dress -"

"Hasn't been chosen yet."

"But you're not going to wear a ball gown, are you?"

Well. . . no.

"Which means it's going to be form fitting. Which means everyone is going to see your body shape, and don't you want to rub it into Jeyne's face that you have a better figure than she could ever dream?"

She was wasted in acting, truly she was.

Arya let the slice fall onto her plate, but continued glaring, "I'm not going on a cleanse or liquid diet or anything."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Sansa waved her hand dismissively. "Just lose like ten pounds in three months."

"Ten pounds? That's like a month's worth of junk food!"

The eldest Stark girl glared imperiously, looking every inch the Queen of Winter they were supposed to be descended from. "Ten pounds or you wear a corset."

The line had to be redrawn.

* * *

"Why do _I_ have to go on a diet with you?" Gendry glared at the platter of vegetables before them on the kitchen table.

"Solidarity," Arya informed him, reaching for a celery stalk. "For better or worse, remember?"

"I haven't made that promise yet," he grumbled mutinously before grabbing a carrot stick and dipping it in the ranch. Or _bathing_ it in ranch. The orange could barely be seen!

Arya squawked indignantly, "That's like sixty percent ranch! Put it back, that's cheating!"

He rolled his eyes, "Why are we even bothering with this charade? _You_ know you're going to break the diet. And _I_ know I'm going to break the diet. So, let's just break the diet!"

That was. . . very true.

Ten minutes later, Ned Stark walked into his kitchen to find his youngest daughter and her fiancé sitting on the ground in front of the fridge, giggling like schoolchildren and covered in chocolate.

Arya choked at the sight of her father. She opened her mouth - probably to beg him to refrain from telling Sansa about her dietary violation - but he raised his hand to silence her. He wasn't going to tell Sansa. He wasn't going to tell anybody. He was going to his damned best to banish the sight of his daughter licking chocolate sauce off of Gendry's fingers.

"I'm not drunk enough for the this," the Stark patriarch sighed and turned right back around, midday snack forgotten.

There was a beat of silence, and then Gendry spoke, "Is your father going to kill me?"

"Nah," she shrugged. "The worst Starks do to men that besmirch their daughter's honor is castration, and they stopped doing that centuries ago."

Gendry stared at her with horror in his eyes until she sighed exasperatedly, "Oh, he's just going to get drunk and pretend it never happened!"

Maybe it would have been better to turn down Catelyn's offer of letting Gendry stay in the guest house while he helped with wedding preparations. There was bound to be more incidents like this and the last thing she wanted was for her father to become an alcoholic like his best friend, Robert. Or die from liver failure.

"We should probably go to your room," she eventually declared.

* * *

 **A/N:** I think the chapters are going to be short like this. IDK, there's a lot of backstory I want to cover, but I also just want to get to the humor/drama lol.

Please let me know what you liked, didn't like, and what could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Gratuitous cameos, ahoy! Everybody mentioned will eventually show up at the wedding. And next chapter, the 'extended family' will _finally_ start arriving!

 **To Wright:** thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you find the story humorous!

 **To Aby:** Yes, Arya and Gendry are _the_ OTP in Game of Thrones! lol I feel like Ned would just forever be in denial of his children's (especially his little girls) sexuality, so I'll probably be picking on him a lot XD

 **Thank you to everyone** that added this fic to their story alerts and/or favorites!

* * *

 **From Acorns to Oaks**

 **Day Three: It's A Sign**

Arya and Gendry didn't really fight. But they argued. A lot. They always had. Of course, if a nine year old walked up to a thirteen year old and told him he was holding his baseball bat all wrong, there was bound to be arguments. Even if it turned out the nine year old was right and the thirteen year old's swing improved exponentially.

That wasn't their first meeting, anyway. Their _first_ meeting had been when Arya had snuck away from her 'home' in King's Landing to a rundown park in Flea Bottom, wearing baggy clothes and tucking her hair under a baseball cap so that she ended up confused for a boy more often than not. Once there, she had quickly realized that skinny, little boys tended to get bullied just as much as skinny, little girls and had quickly run into Lommy and Hot Pie in the worst of ways. The crooked-toothed blond and overweight brunet were used to being at the bottom of the totem pole and were more than happy to prove their worth by picking on the smallest kid without adult supervision.

Only Gendry was willing to defend a stranger, and had quickly scared off the other two with his impressive height and frightening scowl.

Arya had been intrigued. She didn't want to say it was a crush, because _eew_ , she was _nine_! But maybe it was the first hint of romantic inclination she had ever experienced. So, in the days that followed, she kept returning to that park, and kept an eye out for Gendry. She wasn't _stalking_ him, no matter what Hot Pie said. She was just naturally observant.

And she observed his horrible, horrible swing.

She'd kept the hat and baggy clothes on, because she figured that he would take pointers from a nine year old more easily than he would a girl. Only to be surprised when he revealed he'd known all along that she was a girl. Lommy and Hot Pie, who had shyly approached to be coached by 'Arry' as well, reacted with shock and horror like she expected.

That had marked their first argument, when Arya insisted that there was _no way_ he'd known all along. And they'd just. . . never stopped arguing.

Well, that made it sound like they had a borderline abusive relationship. The truth was that their arguments never lasted more than a few sentences, and were usually about the most inane things. Like, what movie they were going to watch - usually decided with a coin flip - or whether it was okay for Arya to steal Gendry's fries even though she'd already finished her own. The answer was yes, of course.

The truth was, Arya liked their little arguments, because without them they were disgustingly sweet together.

They were lowkey the couple that people envied. They were childhood friends, they were each other's only real relationship, Gendry had been her first kiss, and their feelings had survived long distance, potential suitors, and whatever the heck the Lannisters had been planning when Robert had been dying right before the truth was revealed. They were just like those songs that Sansa had always loved and Arya had always turned her nose up at.

Nobody noticed because they were always arguing.

"Why would the wedding colors be peach? We don't even like peach," Gendry asked as he stared at the swatches of color laid out on the table before them.

Arya shrugged, "Mother says it gives a springtime sort of vibe."

"It's _winter_!"

Try explaining that to Stark women!

"It's _always_ winter here," she explained. Even in the spring they occasionally had gentle snowfalls, and the summer was milder than anywhere on the continent. It was the north, after all. "I guess they just want to give it a more traditional wedding sort of feeling."

"Listen, I like your family," he began, and she rolled her eyes at the understatement of the century. She was pretty sure Gendry would go to war for the Starks. "But I'm not getting married surrounded by all peach everything!"

Arya looked at the _perfect passion peach_ that her mother and sister had picked out. It really was kind of garish. Bright and loud and very much not what came to mind when she thought of her relationship with Gendry. When she thought of Gendry she thought of the baseball diamond and the grass of the rundown park. She thought of the steel he learned to bend to his will and the trees they drove through on their way out of King's Landing when she was sixteen. She thought of the woods surrounding Lady Smallwood's estate where they shared their first kiss and the wooden bed frame in Gendry's apartment in Wintertown.

She thought of acorns. Acorns on the dress Lady Smallwood had leant her, on the tree they had sat under when all the Baratheon-Stark-Lannister drama had been dealt with, carved into the silver band he'd slipped onto her finger.

"Yeah, neither am I," she sighed tiredly, pushing the peach swatches away.

Instead, her eyes trailed to the swatches of color that Sansa had sneered at. The colors that Catelyn had declared were only there because they were obligated to include the entire color spectrum but weren't supposed to be seriously considered. The grays and beiges and browns.

"What about this?" Arya pulled a repose gray and warm brown together. _Acorn Brown_ , she smirked at the name. It's like it was made for them!

"Brown and gray?" Gendry arched an incredulous brow.

"What? You're going to be color snob now?"

"No, but, I don't think your mother's going to like it," he pointed out.

He was right, Catelyn looked like she might faint when Arya presented her with their color choices. But it was their wedding, and those were the colors that represented _them_. So she would not be moved when it came to the theme.

She also got Sansa to replace the pears in the flowers with acorns, but that was an entirely different conversation.

* * *

 **A/N:** Will forever be bitter that we didn't get any acorn symbolism on the show! I also chose those colors for the symbolism but then decided to make sure it wasn't too bad and it turns out that's actually a pretty popular and "sophisticated" combo for interior design. But, it'd probably be weird for a wedding where things are supposed to be bright and happy and cliché.

Also, the Baratheon-Stark-Lannister drama will be expanded on as each family member shows up to the story.

As always, let me know what you liked, didn't like, and what could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** We have arrived at Dysfunction Junction!

 **To Wright:** Very true! lol But I've helped at my fair share of weddings, and you'd be surprised how often the bride and groom can be made to give up their vision for somebody else's (usually the mother-in-law's).

 **Thanks to everybody** who added this story to their alerts! And everybody reading! :)

 **Warnings:** for polyamory (Theon/Jeyne Poole/Satin), implied underage relations, non-canonical disabled character.

* * *

 **From Acorns to Oaks**

 **Day Four: Eavesdropping**

With less than a month until the wedding, the guests began arriving to Winterfell. Some, because they had agreed to help with the final preparations. Some, because they were practically family and visited more often than not. And others because Winterfell was practically a small village unto itself and they took the grand occasion as an excuse to have themselves a free vacation.

Ygritte was always there more often than not. Even though Jon technically lived with Tormund in the Gift as he worked in Sam's Citadel Cybernetics branch, he drove to Winterfell almost every weekend. Of course, the family was his main concern, but the fact that his long-term girlfriend lived in a trailer in the wildlife reserve Sansa volunteered at helped.

The wild redhead was helpful, even as she gently mocked Arya for 'bringing the law into the most primal of human urges.' Ygritte was of the opinion that marriage was unnecessary. Not that she sneered at it, but she felt that exclusivity was a choice and there was no need to sign a piece of paper to feel secure in a relationship. As far as she was concerned, she and Jon were as good as married because they had been exclusive since they were sixteen.

Arya didn't point out that Jon very much wanted to get married with his family as witness. Ygritte knew better than anybody, seeing as he had proposed three times already.

Theon, Jeyne, and Satin arrived from the Iron Islands next. Theon arrived expecting a free vacation like when they were kids, and Jeyne did her best to grin and chat with Arya like they were old friends. Like she hadn't tormented the brunette until she was nine by calling her Arya Horseface. Like she wasn't the smallest bit bitter that her arrangement with her two boyfriends meant she wouldn't ever have the wedding she and Sansa used to play at.

Satin, unsurprisingly, was the most helpful. He was an interior designer by profession, so he was usually attached to Catelyn by the hip as they began setting up the different areas for the wedding.

Sansa had pouted that Sandor wasn't allowed to sleep over like Gendry, but Ned had been quick to remind her that _he_ hadn't asked for her hand in a marriage like a proper gentleman. There wasn't much an actual lumberjack could do in wedding preparations, anyway. Arya still couldn't get over the fact that Clegane had become _an actual lumberjack_ in the frozen north. But she supposed there wasn't much an officially bodyguard but not so secretly hired gun for the most reviled family in Westeros could be after 'changing professions.'

He mostly just made jokes and helped with the heavy lifting. Which still made him one of the more useful guests.

Unsurprisingly, the most useful guests were the ones Arya herself had invited. Hot Pie had grown up to be a baker, with his own little shop in the Riverlands oh so cleverly named _Hot Pie's Hot Pies._ The moment he'd heard of the engagement, he had gladly offered to make the wedding cake and other treats for free! It had taken a lot of back and forth until Arya and Gendry had made him accept a commission - even if it was half off.

Hot Pie showed up with Lommy in tow. The blond had been the most surprising out of all of them. It didn't take a genius to figure out Gendry would be a metal worker, or Hot Pie would be a baker. Even Arya was obvious in retrospect, given how much she adored her father and tried to emulate him.

But Lommy was a wildcard. He seemed content with being the Flea Bottom hoodlum that everybody expected him to be. Even as Arya left to the fencing school in Braavos, and Gendry got a scholarship for the Crossroads Institute in the Riverlands, and Hot Pie decided to focus on school so that he could follow, Lommy kept being Lommy. He refused to grow up and kept messing around until one day he got into a fight with a junkie and was stabbed in the neck with a needle.

Fortunately, he had avoided all the nasty diseases associated with used needles, but the stab wound had damaged his vocal cords and left him permanently mute. After a period of justifiable depression as his entire world had been turned upside down, he'd finally decided to change his life around, and eventually received a teaching certificate. He now taught kids in Flea Bottom in one of the worst rated schools in the region. The pay was so bad that he had to take a part-time job as a stock boy, but he was proud of what he did.

If he could make sure at least one kid didn't end up like him, he'd signed to Arya once, then he'd feel like his life meant something.

Lommy helped where he could. Usually as an assistant to Hot Pie, but occasionally doing errands for the others. It was bit difficult since Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie were the only ones that knew sign language, but they managed. And she had seen Bran doing his level best to sign at Lommy once and she couldn't but smile.

Lady Smallwood, aside from being an heiress and mistress of an actual freaking castle, was professionally a designer. She had also been the first to support Arya's relationship with Gendry, even before Father. Despite Ned being a non-judgmental man, and knowing that he shouldn't judge a son by the father, he had been a little unsure of letting his daughter be with an aspiring smith.

Ravella Smallwood had not-so-subtly implied that she would happily welcome the two of them at Acorn Hall if they felt unwelcome in the north. Catelyn looked like she had been sucking on a lemon, but quickly insisted that Arya was a Stark, and the Starks belonged in Winterfell. Ned was quick to add that their loved ones were always welcome as well.

Upon arriving at Winterfell, the noblewoman had taken a look at the theme, smiled at Arya, and said, "Acorns!"

Arya had blushed and pretended she wasn't as much of a romantic as she actually was, but felt confident in whatever vision Ravella decided to dress her in.

Even Weasel was more help than _certain_ guests. The little kid happily flitted from room to room, helping to make goodie bags and centerpieces. And reminding Arya that Gendry looked really freaking good when he was being all paternal. It was honestly unfair how much he was making her want kids!

All in all, things in Winterfell were good, if a bit loud. Of course, that was because the _whole_ family wasn't there yet.

* * *

The Tullys weren't the worst. Yes, they had raised their eldest daughter to be a bit of a snob - to the point of looking down on her nephew-by-law for being born from an affair, and she'd genuinely considered disowning her youngest daughter for 'running off' with a 'peasant' - but they were good people, overall. Or they tried to be, at least.

Brynden the Blackfish was the best, but he was always off who knows where doing who knows what. When she was a child, Arya had believed he was a spy. She still thought that, but knew better than to say it out loud.

Edmure and his wife Roslin were okay, if a bit. . . _ditzy_. The both of them. Their four year old son had a better head on his shoulder, but that might be because they lived with Edmure's father Hoster, and he more than likely did most of the child-rearing.

It was _Aunt Lysa_ that was the problem. There was the fact that she was a conspiracy theorist and anti-vaxxer, and had breastfed her son until he was _seven_. But all that could be ignored if not wholly forgiven. The real problem was that she was a widow, and she had chosen to 'find love again' with the scum of the earth. Lysa Tully-Arryn was now Lysa Baelish.

Not even Catelyn had been able to forgive that. But she was family and it wouldn't do to not invite her.

Ned genuinely considered letting Sandor stay over - in Sansa's room even! - if only to keep the slimy 'talent scout' away from the young redhead.

Arya wasn't even sure why they were there so early. They didn't even offer to help!

But it seemed like their arrival heralded the coming of other unwanted 'guests.'

* * *

They sent Myrcella as an olive branch. The blonde blushed shyly as she stood beside Shireen.

"Father still has business to take care of, and you know how Mother is," the Stormlander explained with a smile.

Arya quirked a brow at the Lannister-Baratheon.

"Winter break," she mumbled. Myrcella had always been the nicest of Cersei's brood. Joffrey was _Joffrey_ , and Tommen had been too young to be interesting at one point and too dull-witted to be interesting now. Myrcella was intelligent, sweet, well-mannered, and talented. She even showed a bit of a rebellious streak in her choice of paramour, Trystane Martell, and choosing to go to Dorne for university.

But Myrcella wasn't rebellious, and she ended up being more off than on with Trystane, and was forced to go back to King's Landing for every break, even if it were just a day or two.

"I'm surprised your mother let you come alone," Arya said aloud.

Myrcella opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a snort, "Of course, Mother didn't let her come alone, idiot!"

At the sound of Joffrey's voice, Arya's eye started to twitch.

"Sorry," Myrcella whispered as she and Shireen walked through the threshold.

Joffrey pushed his way through, "You can take my bags to whatever dark and dank room you have for me."

"You can have the dungeon," she shouted after him.

"There's a dungeon?" Tommen's eyes were bright with wonder when she turned to him.

She did her best to keep a sharp comment to herself, "Yeah, actually. Maybe Gendry can show you to it later."

At the mention of his 'brother,' Tommen smiled widely and skipped inside. At least he carried his own bags.

Cersei most definitely did not.

"I see a wolf-girl finally managed to sink her teeth into the Baratheon fortune," the blonde sneered down at the shorter woman.

Arya didn't see the need to point out that no other wolf girl had actually _wanted_ a Baratheon. And the Starks were richer than them anyway! Besides, even if Gendry was Robert's favorite, and the matter of inheritance had yet to be decided, Gendry had already made it clear that he didn't want a single cent from his father.

"I see your hair's grown back nicely after that whole fire incident," she snarked instead. Six years ago, when the true parentage of her children had come to light, Cersei had locked herself in her palatial estate and then set it on fire. No one was injured. . . too much. But Cersei had been forced to cut off her pride and joy, her waist-length golden locks due to fire damage.

Her green eyes narrowed and her mouth puckered angrily before she stomped past Arya, careful to kick her heel into Arya's shin as she did.

"There's my daughter-in-law!" Arya had been too busy trying not to cry out in pain to dodge Robert's bear hug.

She quickly extricated herself from it, "Hello, Mr. Baratheon." He'd always made her a bit uncomfortable. He'd never done anything too skeevy directly to her - probably due to the respect he felt for Ned, not anybody with two X chromosomes - but he was bit too interested in her sex life with his son to be normal. And there was that one time he'd gotten extra drunk and called her Lyanna.

She really didn't like being alone with him.

"What's this Mr. Baratheon nonsense? It's dad now!"

She smiled as best she could, "It'll probably take me a while to get used to that." More like, that was never going to happen! "I'll go get Gendry for you."

It was probably mean to use Gendry like that when she knew he disliked his father, but for better or worse, right? Besides, he didn't like leaving her alone with Robert, either.

* * *

Gendry got along with his half-siblings. The biological ones and the legal ones. Except Joffrey, of course, but no one got along with him. He chatted pleasantly with Myrcella and gave Tommen his undivided attention like he was the most interesting boy in the world.

When Mya Stone showed up, he took her to the wildlife reserve to show her the mountains. She was a nature tour guide in the Vale, and though the north had 'baby mountains' according to her, she was glad _somebody_ shared her interests.

Edric Storm was studying to be an accountant, but had a penchant for wine - unfortunately inherited from his father, but at least he controlled it better - so Gendry had a case of Dornish red waiting for him.

Bella Rivers was a ballet dancer, but also a former call girl, and naturally had a hard time being in a crowd of people for a long time. So Gendry made sure she was given a room furthest from the other guests. Especially Cersei.

Barra was still only three years old, and her mother Mhaegan was a waitress. They were both equally sweet and equally clueless about the tension their presence brought. Everybody did their best to ignore the fact that Mhaegan was younger than _Arya_ at nineteen! There wasn't much that could be done when the age of consent was sixteen, but no one was very okay with it. Gendry did his best to make sure they never noticed the tension, distracting them with board games and trips to the park.

Gendry got along well with the mothers of his half-siblings as well. Except for Cersei, of course.

Cersei didn't like Gendry either. Whether it was because he posed the most 'threat' to Joffrey inheriting everything in her mind, or because he refused to be cowed by her icy glares and pointed comments like the others, Arya wasn't sure. But she had never made her displeasure a secret.

One would think she'd have more sense than to badmouth him when she was visiting for his _wedding_ , though.

"I can't believe you're letting your daughter marry a _smith_ of all things," Arya froze mid-step outside her mother's 'sewing room.' Her lips thinned as she realized her mother was genuinely entertaining Cersei's company. It was one thing to invite the groom's stepmother because of _duty_ , it was another to be civil with the woman who'd tried to have the groom _killed_ when he was twenty! "I didn't even know that was an actual career anymore!"

"Gendry is an artisan," Catelyn replied sharply. It wasn't exactly an endorsement, but at least it was somewhat a defense. "He sells his creations online. Arya told me he's had orders come in all the way from Qarth."

"Online?" Cersei tittered. "My elderly aunt sells doilies online as well."

Arya choked on her retort. There was nothing wrong with being an online vendor! The economy was shit and there was no reason to open up a shop when he already had to rent a space just to _create_.

"You must be proud of her industriousness," Catelyn calmly intoned. "It's not every woman that would continue working beyond what was expected of her."

Arya snorted at the jab. Cersei had never actually worked at all. She had 'interned' at Lannister Gold and then became a housewife upon marrying Robert.

Evidently, the blonde didn't miss the attack on her person, "Well, I suppose that when one needs money desperately, any little thing helps. How fortunate for him that he found someone that can care for his financial needs for as long as possible."

 _Oh, that's it!_ She was _not_ going to insult Gendry by implying he was marrying Arya for the money!

Gendry had been supporting himself since his mother died when he was sixteen. He was too proud to even accept money from Arya or Ned himself, even when he could only afford one meal per day. He'd fought tooth and nail for the scholarship at the Crossroads Institute, and had only returned to King's Landing four years later to work under his first mentor Tobho Mott and make an honest living.

Then _Cersei_ had destroyed all his plans by targeting him just because he was related to Robert.

Arya's hand was on the doorknob, poised to march into that room and rip Cersei's head off. Metaphorically. Or literally. It was undecided at the moment.

And then her mother spoke, using the same tone she had always used when Arya came home with twigs in her hair and mud on her face. It was her 'I trust you can become a better human being but you are really testing my faith right now' voice. "Gendry is a fine young man. A better man than many born in better circumstances. He took care of Arya when they were forced to _flee_ _the city_ because of a _misunderstanding_ , and he was far more forgiving of the entire matter than could rightly be expected. I can hardly think of a better man for my daughter to marry."

"Yeah!" Arya shouted through the door before running away when she remembered she was eavesdropping. It was too much to ask her to not react when her mother had finally proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she had genuinely accepted Gendry.

And the look on Cersei's face must have been wonderful to behold!

* * *

 **A/N:** It's only day four and I'm already late! I also got the weekend shift this week, so I'm probably not updating until next Monday. But, hopefully, I'll finish this fic by next week!

 **A bit of clarification:** the backstory is pretty much canon, except out of order. When Arya is 9/Gendry 13 the Starks move to King's Landing and they meet. When Gendry is 16/Arya 12, his mother died and he moved to the Riverlands (Brotherhood Without Banners storyline) and "left her behind." So, when she was 13/Gendry 17, she ran away to Braavos to join a fencing school (Meanwhile, Hot Pie is moving into Crossroads for culinary and Lommy gets stabbed). She graduates at 16/Gendry 20 and so does he, and they both return to King's Landing. Robert ends up in the hospital, Ned finds out about the incest, Cersei sends hitmen after the bastards and Arya and Gendry flee. They eventually meet up with his half-siblings and help save them and the truth comes out anyway. But, since no one actually died, Cersei gets away with saying it was "a misunderstanding" and no one goes to jail, either. Barra was born three years after all that, because _of course_ Robert didn't learn his lesson.

I know that on the show and the books there are _at least_ 11 other Baratheon Bastards, but they don't even have names, so let's pretend at least some people use birth control in this AU.

Sorry for the lack of actual gendrya, next chapter should make up for it!

As always, let me know what you liked, didn't like, and what could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** My life is in a really good place right now, and I've finally started on a rebuilding/redecorating project I've had for years. BUT I forgot that it meant I'd have to disconnect my modem for a few days, and would be without internet. My bad! But, double-post for the wait!

 **I added** Brienne/Jaime because I love that ship, Margaery/Bronn because it's my favorite crackship, and Tyrion/Shae because they were actually cute on the show until they destroyed Shae's character.

 **To Wright:** I feel similar to Ygritte as well, although I also understand the desire born from tradition and whatnot. And, in canon, I generally can't stand Catelyn's elitist views either, but I figured in the modern (enough) world, she would have to adapt and change them.

 **To Aielwildling:** Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you like the fic! :)

* * *

 **From Acorns to Oaks**

 **Day Five: Bad Pick-Up Lines**

Gendry hadn't wanted a bachelor party, but Arya was looking forward to her hen night. It wasn't so much the idea of her 'last night as a free woman' that she was looking forward to. The idea that she was mourning her past relationship status had never made sense to her, since no one was forcing her to get married. It wasn't the Long Night anymore or anything!

But it was a way to smooth over her 'insultingly small bridal party.'

There were a lot, a _lot_ of women present for Arya's wedding. Most of whom were somehow related to either her or the groom. Her sisters-in-law alone numbered five. Six, if she counted Ygritte, which she did. Shireen was to be her cousin-in-law, and was a good friend besides. She hadn't met Lyanna Mormont until she moved back north at sixteen, but they had quickly bonded over their love of fencing and the Mormont women being one of the only 'blood of the First Men' that were liberal enough when it came to relationships that they didn't even blink at her dating a twenty year old bastard southerner.

Meera Reed wasn't a close friend, but she had been dating Bran long-distance for long enough that Arya didn't doubt she would be sister-in-law number seven.

Jeyne Poole was a hard no from Arya, because even if they were all older and wiser, Jeyne had never really apologized for bullying her, and Arya was sure she would never truly forget. Besides, she was Sansa's friend, no matter how closely connected their families had always been. And if she started choosing bridesmaids based on familial connections, she'd have to choose Alys Karstark, Wylla Manderly, and a half dozen others.

Good-natured, respectful Brienne showed up only two days before the designated hen night instead of assuming she was welcomed all month. It was a bit awkward when she brought along Jaime as her date. Robert was angry that the true father of his legal children was around to 'strut around like a peacock' - he actually wasn't, Robert was just drunk. The Lannister-Baratheon kids were peeved - Joffrey -, constantly fretting - Myrcella - or clueless - Tommen - which only served to charge the atmosphere. Cersei was furious that he had gotten over her and 'shacked up with an ugly wench.' Jaime, for his part, stuck close to Brienne like a shadow, and was as quiet as one as well.

Arya liked Brienne, but she liked avoiding a fist-fight at her wedding more.

They had brought along Margaery Tyrell via her boyfriend Bronn, who was both Jaime and Tyrion's best friend, which meant that the 'half-man' and his long-time but very much not approved of girlfriend Shae came along as well. Arya didn't really mind the additions, they had plenty of space and food and Sansa had told her that the two women had been her only friends in King's Landing after she and Joffrey had broken up.

Aunt Lysa was too old to be part of a bridal party, but that didn't stop her from trying to weasel her way in. Catelyn had to step in and quietly chide her sister into submission.

In the end, Arya had decided that she only needed Sansa to stand behind her at the altar. The sisters had been through a lot, together and apart, and it had taken a long and tumultuous journey to reach the close relationship that they now shared. She wouldn't go so far as to say that Sansa was her best friend - that spot would forever belong to Gendry - but she was close.

They were more than just blood. They had _chosen_ to stand together when it felt like the whole world was against them.

Besides, it was a good way to avoid all the drama of choosing one cousin over the other, and being accused of liking one friend more than the rest. Sansa would be her bridesmaid - her maid-of honor - and Weasel would be her flower girl. Gendry would have Jon as his best man, who would also carry the rings.

It was as close to the small and simple wedding they wanted that they could get.

But when it came to the bachelor and bachelorette parties, it was decided that they would do the 'traditional' thing, the wild thing, and go get shit-faced drunk with their friends. Or Arya did. Gendry was more or less bullied into going bar hopping by Robb and Theon. Ironic, given that Robb hadn't had a bachelor party either.

There wasn't much to do in Wintertown, only a single all girls strip club and one house of ill repute. The closest den of sin was White Harbor which would take a day and a half to drive to. The bars within reach were all lazy Sunday types of bars, and weren't exactly known for wild parties.

The drinks were great, though. Strong enough to strip a grown man of his senses! If said man was from the south.

"Are you an assassin? Because you've just dealt my heart a mortal blow."

Arya buried her face in her hands as Sansa and Jeyne tittered with laughter. Theon was openly guffawing.

" _How_ did we end up in the same bar?" she ignored Gendry in favor of glaring at her older brothers.

Robb shrugged a bit too uncaringly, "You know Ros has the best brew in the north."

"Yeah, and that's why we claimed it!" Arya reminded them.

"I hope you know CPR," Gendry leaned closer to her. "Because you are taking my breath away."

She pushed him away. No wonder he'd never had any serious relationships before her, if that was what he'd considered a good pick-up line! "I do, actually, but I'm getting the urge to just let you choke."

Undeterred, Gendry grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm. Heat flooded her cheeks and her heart stuttered a little. And then he ruined it by speaking, "If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?"

Arya pushed him away and stood from her stool, "We are getting married, you stupid!"

His eyes widened comically, "We _are_? That's so cool!"

She blushed again, partly due to his unintentional flattery, and partly due to the loud laughter from both their parties. "Let's get you home," she grabbed his arm and pulled his stumbling form towards the exit. Winterfell was close enough to walk, their guests had melded into a single party and were entertained enough that she was sure they wouldn't even care if the bride and groom-to-be were present or not.

"Ooh, yes, let's," he agreed with a series of sharp nods.

Arya rolled her eyes again. If he thought he was getting lucky while he was such a sloppy, drunk mess he would be sorely disappointed.

That didn't stop him from spouting his ridiculous pick-up lines as their boots crunched through the crisp, early snow. The castle-like manor was dark and quiet when they finally walked through the front door. And even though she was sure it would cause a scandal come morning, she dragged him towards her bedroom. It was closer than his, and her absurdly tall and muscular fiancé was not making dragging him around easy.

She kicked her bedroom door open, and all but threw Gendry on the bed. Unfortunately, he refused to give up his grip on her and she fell on top of him. His limbs wrapped around her suddenly, and he _squeezed_ , the breath leaving her in a squeak.

She had forgotten that he was a cuddly drunk.

"You must be a campfire," he drawled. "Because you're super hot and I want s'more!"

Arya gagged, "You are so lucky I fell in love with you over time, because you are _terrible_ at hitting on women."

A snore was his only response.

"Seven hells!" Arya tried to jump at the new voice, but even in sleep Gendry's grip was strong. "At least close the door!"

Eddard Stark stood in the doorway, looking a little green, as if _he_ had been the one to return from a night of drinking. Arya felt herself blush for the third time that night, "It's not what it looks like!"

"Of course it's not," her father agreed a little too eagerly. "Good night, you two."

Ned was quick to shut the door and, hopefully, return to his bed and not to the mini-bar in the patio.

Arya sighed and looked over at her sleeping, snoring, slightly drooling boyfriend, "I hope you're ready to be stuck with me forever, because my parents taught me to always stick with my dreams."

* * *

 **A/N:** I had so much fun with this prompt. Terrible pick-up lines are my favorite thing ever. That and puns!

Fun fact: Lyanna Mormont is only a year younger than Arya in the books, not six years younger like in the show, so that's what I went with in this AU.

As always, let me know what you liked, didn't like, and what could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** The long-awaited wedding is here!

* * *

 **From Acorns to Oaks**

 **Day Six: Dancing**

Arya did her best to live life fearlessly. Ever since her first fencing instructor, Syrio Forel, had instilled in her the mantra _fear cuts deeper than swords_ , she had done her best to be as fierce as a wolverine. As brave as the direwolf the Starks still used as their coat of arms despite not being nobility for around two hundred years.

When she had recognized her feelings of love for what they were, she had confessed almost immediately to Gendry. Even though she was terrified. Because he was twenty and she was sixteen, and even if it was legal, he might have seen her as nothing more than a little girl. Because he looked like a rock star and she was Arya Horseface. Because it felt like they had been friends forever and she didn't want to risk making things awkward. She had confessed because Syrio had taught her that fear was a marker of her limitations, and it was her job to push past her limits.

She had confessed and been rewarded with Gendry's love and a kiss beneath an oak tree. And a few days later, Cersei set her 'Red Keep' on fire and they were free to go back to King's Landing, and, eventually, Winterfell.

The universe rewarded her for pushing past her fears.

So, she always lived with that in mind. Arya rarely felt fear at the usual things, like getting turned down for her dream job or rejected from the graduate program she had been working towards for years. Her fears were more primal - death, and those it might take from her - and more easily ignored in day to day life.

It helped her live a less stressful life. She worried less and only did things because she really wanted to do them.

When Gendry had proposed, she hadn't been thinking of marriage, more focused on her career and finishing her schooling. But the moment he asked, she didn't hesitate. She understood, in her heart of hearts, that he was the only person she could see spending the rest of her life with. She had loved him in a childish way when she was nine, and then in a mature way when she was sixteen. If her feelings ever changed, she knew it would be only to become stronger, deeper, and truer.

She didn't have that moment of acute horror that others were said to have. That moment when they realized that if they said yes then they'd possibly be missing out on exciting adventures and steamy flings, and if they said no they would be without the person that was proposing marriage. Arya liked to think she was fearless, but honestly, in that moment there was nothing to fear. She loved Gendry, and he loved her, and they practically lived together already, so why not?

Even the realization that bringing their entire families - and assorted associates - together would bring a whirlwind of emotions and awkward moments didn't give her pause. Winterfell was large enough that you could avoid somebody indefinitely with little effort. If anybody started a fight, it was because they were looking for one and Arya wasn't scared to treat them accordingly when breaking up a fight.

She had nearly broken 'Uncle' Petyr's wrist when he'd crowded Sansa into a corner during the rehearsal dinner. He was lucky that was all she did. Sandor was reaching for a table knife just as she reached them and threw the greasy man out of the room.

By some miracle, most of the tension resulted in snark and open insults whenever the speaker was properly inebriated. It was almost too good to be true! There was nothing to fear. . . except for _one_ thing. One teensy, tiny thing that had _somehow_ escaped not only her notice, but her mother's and sister's too.

 _Dancing_.

It wasn't that Arya wasn't graceful. She had to be, as a fencer and as a child of Catelyn Stark Nee Tully. She even had some rhythm. The problem was that whenever she was the center of attention while dancing, she tended to revert to toddler level balance and motor control.

The bride had a bit of a spotlight on her while dancing. With the groom. With her father. With the father of the groom. With her brothers. And with her brothers-in-law. She drew the line at uncles, and she was doing her best to avoid dancing with Joffrey. She hadn't expected him to agree, let alone argue that it was 'his right' as well as tradition, until she remembered he was there when Edric Dayne had spun her and she tripped into the punch bowl when she was thirteen. The worm was just hoping to have a chance to embarrass her himself!

Arya shuddered to think he might succeed.

She had never been the type of person that dreamed of weddings, but now that the day was here, she wanted it all to go perfectly. What were the chances that she might get what she wanted?

* * *

The dress Lady Smallwood had made for her was as beautiful as she had expected. Shimmering white over ice gray, cinched at the waist so that it showed off her hourglass figure _without_ the need for a corset. An entire forest made of sheer, glittering material was filigreed over the A-line skirt, silver acorns nestled on the ruffled edge. Her veil reached her mid-back and was held in place by a tiara of golden leaves with mahogany acorns.

It seemed like something Arya might dream. Not like a princess about to marry a prince, but like she was about to run away with an outlaw to live a life of adventure in the woods.

Margaery Tyrell had offered to do her make-up, and she had accepted after Sansa promised her that the philanthropist was 'super good at all things beauty.' Arya was pleasantly surprised when she looked in the mirror and saw the cosmetics were subdued. She could barely tell she was wearing any at all, and yet she seemed to glow with a light from within.

Her father actually teared up when he saw her, and her mother didn't bother trying to stop her tears. The walk down the aisle to the heart tree was the shortest distance she had ever walked. The weight of her father's arm was a distant thing, and even the chattering of the guests dwindled down to white noise.

The only thing she could focus on was Gendry's smile, and the way his face lit up to see her. The way his eyes glimmered like he might burst into tears as well.

A traditional northern wedding was a quick affair. A few oaths and the rings exchanged, no complex ceremonies or flowery speeches like in the south. All too soon, it was time to enter the 'great hall' where the party would take place.

And that meant dancing.

It was easy enough with Gendry. They moved to a slow ballad, and it was apparently romantic that they didn't do much other than gently sway to the music as they smiled at each other.

Her father did his best to distract her from their audience, keeping a quiet dialogue, telling her how proud he was of how far she had come in life. There was a fortunate glitch that cut off the song she was meant to dance with Robert in half. Arya smiled at Bran in his wheelchair, sitting beside the DJ's booth.

Robb was graceful enough that she barely had to put any effort into staying on her feet. And being with Jon was as comfortable as being with Gendry or Father.

For the first few dances, she managed to be as graceful as a bride was meant to be. And then came Joffrey's turn. Arya stood stock still in the center of the dance floor, not bothering to hide her glare as the DJ called for the bride's eldest brother-in-law to dance.

 _Shouldn't that be Edric?_ Of course, Cersei would never let a _bastard_ go before her own little spawn. As if Joffrey wasn't a bastard as well! The blond grinned wickedly as he stalked towards her. Arya looked towards Gendry, as if to find some sort of strength to not murder his step-brother, only to see him whispering into Rickon's ear.

It had been decided that she wouldn't need to dance with Rickon. Not because he was the baby of the family, but because he'd always had a problem with self-control. That had never been so apparent as in that moment. The instant Gendry stopped whispering, Rickon's eyes widened and a overlarge grin appeared on his face.

He jumped out of his seat, "Shireen, my heart! My beautiful doe!" Her little brother ran towards the young woman he claimed was his soulmate, right through the dance floor, and right into Joffrey. It was like watching a bull charge past a delicate piece of china.

Joffrey fell flat onto his back with an indignant shriek. Cersei was at his side in the blink of an eye, hurling obscenities at Rickon's back and demanding that Robert, Ned, Jaime, _somebody_ come carry her obviously injured son to his room. Theon and Satin were the ones to volunteer to carry the surly blond, and by the smiles on their faces she knew that it had all gone exactly according to some plan she hadn't been told about.

For his part, Rickon didn't even seem to notice he had hit anybody at all. He was too busy talking excitedly to the Baratheon heiress, holding her hand while her parents glared. Shireen had never given Rickon much hope, as he was four years younger than her and still a child when they met and the redhead had decided they were meant to be, but she wasn't actually pulling her hand away.

Arya ticked an eyebrow up, a smile tugging at her lips, when suddenly the DJ declared that the show must go on. Dancing with Edric and Tommen was much more enjoyable after that.

* * *

 **A/N:** Shireen catches the bouquet, Rickon proposes immediately, much to everybody's embarrassment.

Sticking to these prompts meant that I didn't manage to add as much dysfunction as I had originally planned, but hopefully it was still entertaining!

Only one chapter left, and it should be up by Saturday!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** It took me about a month to write seven chapters. I hate myself so much right now!

 **To Always Reading:** Thanks! I'm glad you liked the fic, and thank you for reviewing :)

 **Thank you** to everyone that reviewed, added this story to their alerts, and/or favorites, and for reading this far!

* * *

 **From Acorns to Oaks**

 **Day Seven: That's Not What I Meant**

They went to Braavos for their honeymoon. Gendry was his own boss and Arya could afford to miss a week or two of class, so they combined the holiday break with an extra week for a longer than average honeymoon. Braavos was larger than most Westerosi believed, larger than Arya had believed it to be when she'd first traveled there, and she'd made it her mission to show Gendry all the places she had been to while they were separated.

She'd always meant to go back to Braavos with Gendry by her side, and it seemed like the stars had finally lined up for such an occasion. It was warmer than Wintertown, and cooler than King's Landing, and known for its artisans and craftsmen. Gendry had made a joke about staying there forever, and Arya had laughingly agreed, but there was a strained silence following the declaration that made her wonder if they'd stay in the Westeros forever.

But, for the time being, they returned to their homeland. And they made a small trip of it in itself. They'd skipped out on all the usual familial courtesies involved in the holidays, and decided to make up for it by dropping in on their family members and giving them souvenirs in lieu of actual gifts.

They landed in the Stormlands, and stayed in Storm's End for a night. Like most times they visited, dinner was an awkward affair. Stannis was taciturn, Selyse was judgey, and Shireen did her best to make up for her parents' attitudes by being an actual ball of sunshine. The younger Baratheon did the bulk of the talking, and Arya did her best to not mention that every other sentence out of her mouth was asking after Rickon.

Selyse thanked Gendry for the carving of a flaming heart he gave her, and Shireen gushed over the painted silk dresses he'd bought for her. Stannis was characteristically unimpressed by the red-tinged decorative sword he was gifted. But at least he didn't openly sneer at it like he usually did at Robert's gifts. The quiet "humph" he gave was practically glowing praise from Stannis Baratheon.

Edric was too busy with school to devote any real time to them, but the quick meal they shared in a diner was easy and full of laughter. Arya had thought Gendry would bring some spiced wine for his older half-brother, but he'd surprised her by bringing him a really old history book on the abolishment of slavery and foundation of new government on Braavos. Edric surprised her even more by being genuinely pleased by it.

"Given our heritage," Gendry had explained to her afterward. "Casual drinking is okay, but we probably shouldn't enable each other."

"Oh," she nodded sharply. "Right."

They continued on to King's Landing. They had meant to only visit Renly and his husband, Loras, but unfortunately landed on a day the pair had planned to visit the newly-built, much smaller Red Keep.

Cersei sneered to see the newly-weds, but luckily they had gifts for Gendry's step-siblings that they'd planned to send via mail, and as long as her children had 'what they deserved', the blonde was willing to quietly drink herself into a stupor in a corner. Myrcella was already back in school in Dorne, so they'd have to mail her antique set of parchment and quills anyway, but Tommen was overjoyed at the bestiary Arya had chosen for him. Joffrey didn't seem to understand that the many faced god token she had gifted him was a curse that was meant to get worse depending on how foul the holder acted. Which made it all the more entertaining when he began his usual tirade about 'stupid Stark girls and their senseless gifts.'

Arya didn't really believe in curses, but Joffrey tripped and landed on his nose immediately after rising from his seat, so there was that!

They waited until they were back in the Baratheon-Tyrell residence to give the older men their gift. Both Renly and Loras were charming enough that you'd never know it if they lied about liking a gift, but Arya was sure they appreciated the iron figurine of a stag crowned with roses. Between Robert's gag gifts, Stannis' sensible endowments, and trinkets from a dozen nieces and nephews that didn't really care one way or the other, it was probably a gift from the Old Gods and the New to have a nephew that actually thought about their interests when choosing presents.

They shared breakfast with Mhaegan and Barra. The toddler received half a dozen gifts from her half-brother. Everything from bouncy balls to wooden horses and simple learning tools. Her mother received a generous sum of money from Arya.

They stopped by the Riverlands and Arya was upset that the Blackfish was gone _again!_ On more super secret espionage missions, no doubt, but Grandpa Hoster dutifully agreed to hold the book on Faceless Men history she had brought for him until he returned from his sojourn. Edmure and Roslin were still silly, but at least that made them easy to please. A pair of brightly colored bracelets was enough to sate them. Their oddly quiet son was pleased with his box of clay. . . maybe. And Grandpa Hoster was happy enough with his bathrobe.

Bella pretended she wasn't thrilled Gendry arrived to see her, but it was easy to see she thought of him as a doting older brother. Even though she was older by two years, she was a foot shorter, and had a button nose and cherub cheeks that made her seem even younger. The moment Gendry had found out how she had spent her adolescence, he had been furious at their father for not taking care of his children, and he'd decided to step in as the overprotective masculine presence in life that Bella had deserved.

Appropriately, he'd bought her a floor-length dress in the Braavosi style, made of several layers of soft pink and cinching under her breasts so that it made the curves of her body all but disappear. Bella had rolled her eyes but kissed his cheek appreciatively. Arya snuck her a butterfly knife afterwards, and received a wicked grin in return.

They only went to the Vale for Mya. Strong and sensible and obsessed with mountain-climbing, it was easy enough to buy her some hand-made leather gear and know she'd be thrilled by it.

Of course, being in the Vale meant that they'd _have_ to go visit Aunt Lysa, because if she found out they'd been in the area without seeing her, she'd be calling and leaving passive-aggressive messages for at least three months! Or, at least, until she found another perceived insult to complain about.

Robyn was sheltered, but wasn't _too_ bad. Horribly awkward, and his overeagerness to connect with anybody that _wasn't_ his mother or step-father made his awkwardness all the more apparent. Aunt Lysa was equally as eager to keep her guests as long as possible, but Arya wasn't Sansa, so 'Uncle' Petyr wasn't interested. And with someone on the other side as eager as Gendry and Arya to get them out as soon as possible, they didn't even have to stay a full evening before finally taking a train north.

Winterfell was covered in snow by the time they finally reached it, two days after they settled in their now officially shared apartment.

Arya was doubly excited to reach her childhood home. Sansa had informed her three months before that Nana, the wolf-dog hybrid that had wandered into the preserve two years before after being abandoned by humans and rejected by wolves, had mated with a local stray dog and whelped six pups. Since the puppies were three-quarters domesticated dog, the vet had decided that they were safe to be kept as pets. Now that they were old enough to be separated from their mother, they had been put up for adoption.

Unsurprisingly, the Starks had been the first in line for each one. And no one had put up much of fight against them. Even Jon had come from the Gift to pick one of the six pups.

"Ghost," he declared as he showed her the red eyed, white puppy. "He's as quiet as one."

"Shaggydog's not," Rickon declared happily as his pitch colored hound howled. Or tried to. It was more of a warble, to be honest.

"This one's Summer," Bran smiled down at the sleeping pup on his lap. He stroked its fur tenderly, "He's a calm one."

"Not calmer than Lady," Sansa boasted. "And she's already the best trained!"

Arya wasn't sure if biting at Sandor's boot counted as well-trained, but only shrugged it off.

She raised a brow at Robb and the grey colored puppy in his arms. _No showing off?_ she silently asked.

He smiled ruefully, "I'm just glad Talisa agreed to let us keep Grey Wind."

Gods knew the Volantese woman wasn't the most fond of animals. She'd almost died of fright the time she went horseback riding with Arya!

"As long as you make sure he doesn't pee on our bed," Talisa teased. "And dogs are good companions for children!" She blushed and looked around shyly, seemingly worried to announce, "We're going to try for our first soon."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Catelyn cried and Arya twitched guiltily.

She shuffled on her feet suddenly, "There's one more, right?"

"Yes," Sansa rose to her feet. "A girl. I'll be right back!"

Gendry raised a brow at her and she stuck her tongue out at him, "I'm just going to look!"

"I'm sure," he drawled, but didn't seem too annoyed. In fact, there was a soft smile on his face as he looked at her. Something fluttered in her stomach which only made her anxious and she was glad when Sansa arrived with the sixth puppy in her arms.

Arya wasn't ashamed to admit that she cooed at the sight. Or that she ran to snatch the pup from her sister's arms. Okay, so she _wasn't_ going to just look. She was leaving this house with a puppy, come hell or high water. The puppy wriggled uncomfortably and Arya kneeled to place her on the ground. She trotted and jumped in a circle, yipping happily at Arya. She wanted Arya too! This was fate!

It didn't matter what anybody said. Pets were allowed in the apartment anyway.

"Thought of a name yet?" Gendry asked bemusedly as he kneeled beside her.

"Nymeria," she shamelessly declared.

"Nice name," was all he said. Sometimes, she loved him more than she thought possible. He understood what she needed better than she did sometimes, and he accepted her and all her crazy antics more easily than anyone else.

Arya was once again reminded of what she had discovered that very morning, though she had suspected it for about a week. It seemed like a good a time as any to bring it up. She gathered Nymeria into her arms for courage and looked sweetly up at her husband, "Seeing as you're so okay about bringing someone new into our home, how would you feel about adding _one more_ person?"

To her surprise, Gendry looked shocked and almost disgusted, "Seven hells, Arya! We haven't even been married for a month yet and you _already_ want a threesome?"

Arya's face exploded in a blush, made worse when she heard her father grumble, "Merciful Mother, take me now!" Eddard Stark didn't even believe in the New Gods. He'd made her father change religions with his ridiculousness!

"That's not what I meant!"

"Well, what _did_ you mean, then? Because how else am I supposed to take 'you want one more person in our relationship'?"

"I meant that I'm pregnant, you stupid!" She snarled at her beloved, idiotic husband. Arya had tried to be cute about it, but if he was going to act so dumb, she was going to treat him appropriately. Now he was going to have to explain to their future child why she'd informed him of their existence with an insult!

She had momentarily forgotten that they were in Winterfell.

"You're pregnant?" Catelyn cried at the same time Sansa shrieked in joy and Talisa began babbling about cousins in the same age bracket and pregnancy buddies and Arya felt so betrayed. Wasn't the nurse supposed to be the sensible one?

The ground seemed to move as the assorted Starks and Stark-adjacents rose to their feet to congratulate her. Arya half expected to be trampled by the well-wishers when suddenly she was pulled into Gendry's arms.

He buried his face in her hair, "We're having a baby?"

His voice was quiet and uncertain, and oh yeah, that was why she wanted to be cute about it. Because it meant he'd get all soft and sensitive about it. Because this meant all his dreams were coming true much quicker than either of them had actually planned.

"Yes, we are," she wrapped her arms around him as well, and closed her eyes with a smile. In a moment, her family would interrupt the tender moment to give them their own hugs. In a moment, they'd have to come back to reality and realize that having a baby while she was still finishing grad school and they shared a small two bedroom apartment with a dog was not going to be easy. Not that she had any plans to _not_ take Nymeria with her. In a moment, she'd be reminded that being a Stark meant that she had the duty of throwing a baby shower with a guest list just as complex as her wedding.

But, just for that one moment, they could hold each other in bliss.

* * *

 **A/N:** And I'm finally done! With the corniest ending ever, lol. I know that baby shower line makes it sound like there's a sequel in the works, but there's not. Unless I get _really_ inspired. Which I might, but I make no promises.

I decided to add the direwolves in the end because I actually think it's sad to give really young kids like Arya, Bran, and Rickon pets because that means they're going to be teens, maybe young adults, when their beloved pet/best friend dies. And that's if nothing tragic happens! So, in this AU, they're all grown and have been introduced to death (albeit not as horribly as in canon) before they take on the responsibility of a fur baby. And, also, comedy!

I also meant to add Robb and Talisa's "little Eddard" at some point, but as I mentioned before, I had to cut out a bunch of things in order to fit the prompts. So, you can just assume that there was birth control involved. And there will be a race to see who can have the first Eddard amongst the Starklings.

I had so much fun writing this, even though I got lazy about it, and I'm glad you guys enjoyed it as well!

 **Thank you for reading!**

Please review, and let me know what you liked, didn't like, and what could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody


End file.
